I slept warm for the first time last night since we were only at 8,000 ft. We ate an uncooked breakfast so we could quickly flee bug hell. A few miles north, Sparkling Pond, a clear, cool alpine lake, provided a heavenly spot to swim and have hot tea. Sparkling Pond is this small lake that rests like a quiet secret, a whisper. And all the frustration of yesterday evening melted away.
Feeling refreshed, we finished climbing Seavey Pass and then cruised downhill.
We had a relaxed lunch (cheese and crackers; a ProBar) by a rushing river, which boosted me hugely for the next two uphills. I worked hard as hell to get up Macomb Ridge quickly for some reason, but I was feeling confident in how I’ve strengthen physically since we started. It feels like the Sierras are more of a home now 23 days in; it is no longer this distant, possibly conquerable dream.
For about the last 200 miles, the PCT aligned with the John Muir Trail- a lovely but heavily populated section. Once the two trails diverged, I was relieved to encounter fewer southbound John Muir hikers. The drop in trail traffic has been peaceful and we can walk for days and see but a few of the same thru-hikers. Although I enjoy the relative solitude, the co-reliance and the consistent friendless that long distance hikers provide one another amazes me. There is a level of ease and understanding with which hikers approach one another, and sharing information about what's ahead comes forth in a way that is effortless and true blue. Giving away food, water, bug spray when another hiker is running low comes naturally and quickly from everyone.
We found some flat rocks by giant, white rapids and cooked dinner there since the quick water kept the bugs at bay. A female ranger stopped by and asked for our permit and bear box. She explained that the horrendous misquotes were due to the late snowpack this year. We hiked a couple more miles after dinner and camped with a thru hiker named Gravy. Great day.
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